#cw throwing up

[sonofwhales]

ok but an interesting detail I've noticed in fiction after experiencing this myself.

Usually when fainting, a character's vision goes black and they might be out for hours. Now I'm not an expert as I have only fainted once, very recently. It was due to stress+food poisoning and I was trying to throw up when I heard my dad calling for me and like, I was in a state of confusion and one moment I was haunched over the sink and the next I was on the floor with him calling out for me (can cross that one out from the whumpy bucket list LMAO)

but like, I was out for literal seconds and there was no vision going black, didn't even feel the fall. I just feelt extremely weak and disoriented and had a very skewed passage of time. While I looove a good ol dramatic faint, I want to see more of that in fiction.

Just imagine, whumpee is injured and bleeding out, focused on standing up and determined to find their team but they feel as if the ground is moving under their feet.

When they see their group relief of being "safe" overtakes the adrenaline and one moment they see the group running towards them and the next they're laying in the arms of the leader, who is crying and calling out their name.

Whumpee can't understand why leader's expression seems so anguished.

[sara-the-wizard]

I Care. Chapter 6 (part 1/2) (Rottmnt comic)

Donnie and Raph assemble the wheelchair back together for Leo. And honestly, after being stuck in bed for a week, Leo is super excited to get away from the med bay! On the other hand, Donnie doesn't think he deserves any gratitude for finding the wheelchair pieces. It was his fault Leo was hurt in the first place! Donnie wanted to set things right and fix Leo. Truthfully, it looks like everything would be okay! But... Leo's not out of danger yet.

Next Part: Previous Part: Start:

[evil-but-refined]

Everyone who told me to listen to Wolf 359 was right, I love it so much, I finished episode 57 and felt so nervous about everything that I almost threw up

[mysicklove]

vividly picturing little yuuji standing next to ur bed to wake you up in the middle of the night with the classic “…i threw up.” and the annoyed, tired groan that echos the pitch black room from sukuna in response

[finnsterwartooth]

KLOKTOBER DAY 22: TOO MUCH BOOZE OR TOO MUCH SUGAR

blegh

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

I just saw you were taking requests! :D Lately, I've been obsessing over Buck's and Dally's relationship. Do you think you could write something about them? Preferably a sickfic/whump, but no worries if not.

@fefe-the-cat I HOPE THIS DOES YOU JUSTICE!!! This is where I kinda admit I've never thought much about Dally 'n Buck but this was fun to explore!! TYSM for the ask!!! fic below the cut!!

CW: mentions of vomit and throwing up!! nothing graphic!!

Dallas rolls over, grabs the bucket he'd stolen from the shed 'n brings up the only thing left in his stomach: bile. Waves of nausea roll over him, causin' his shoulders to buck 'n his elbows to buckle from where he's tryin' to hold his weight. He lets himself collapse face down on the bed, buryin' his face in his sheets.

Shit.

He doesn't know why he thought he'd be over this by now. Glory, kill him now. He'd felt like shit yesterday mornin' when he'd woken up thrown unceremoniously into the back bedroom at Buck's. He hadn't been surprised, per say. Wakin' up at Buck's almost certainly meant he'd gotten piss drunk the previous night without one of the gang to drag his sorry ass back to Darry. He'd chalked the sickness in his stomach and heaviness in his limbs to forgettin' to stop before the tequila shooters.

That had become a harder beleif to hold as he crawled into bed last night feelin' worse then when he'd started. By the time he woke up this mornin' heavin' dinner he'd accepted it.

He finally stops chokin' on nothin' 'n sits up and against the wall. He was beginnin' to really regret not just draggin' his ass to the Curtis' place. But he didn't want to do that to Darry. He wasn't that selfish. If he wound up on their porch with the bug he'd pass it to Pony who would give it to Soda, would pass it over to Steve who'd hot potato it to Johnny and it would swiftly wind up with Two and finish out strong with Darry. Sickness made the ranks of the gang like clockwork.

No, he was determined to figure this one out himself. He'd be fine.

Dallas dragged his head off the mattress, instantly heavin' again. Fuck, how Darry could take care of all six of them without losin' his mind was beyond Dallas.

A knock pounds on the door and Dallas runs a hand over his mouth to wipe away the bile, scrubs over his face, pushes back his hair. "I'm not runnin' the fuckin' ponies today, Buck, piss off."

He's not necessarily surprised when, instead of retreatin', the door flies open. Not shocked but still irate. Buck stands in the doorway lookin' pissed as all get out before he gets a good look at Dallas. He softens instantly, cockin' one eyebrow.

"You look like shit." Dallas rolls flat onto his back, stares at the celin'.

"Gee, thanks." He pushes himself to sit when Buck doesn't leave. "Fuck off, I'm fine." Buck rolls his eyes. Well, that was new. Usually, when Dallas told him to get lost he'd mutter about some fuckin' kid who thought he could order his grown ass around 'n then promptly get lost.

"Move over." Buck crosses the room in three strides, not that it was impressive, the room was practically a renovated closet. Dallas was more amused with the fact it took him that many.

"Buck, leave me alone. I feel like shit, I'm not runnin' those fuckin' horses." Dallas squeezes his eyes shut 'n bites down hard to keep his teeth from chatterin'.

"Yeah, no shit." He nearly jumps out of his skin when Buck's hand comes down on his forehead. He snaps his eyes open again, bats his hand away.

"Buck, get the hell out of here, would ya?" He tries again. Buck pulls the cig that's burnin' down to nothin' from his mouth, stamps it out on the bottom of his boot, and tosses it out the open window. He reaches over 'n wiggles it shut. "I wanted that open." Dallas shoots him a glare even though he was gonna close it himself the second he got the man out of his room.

"That's probably why you got sick to start with. Close the fuckin' windows in winter, why doncha?" He rolls his eyes and sounds too much like Darry for comfort. Dallas kicks him in the thigh.

"I'm not sick." Buck actually laughs in his face.

"Sure. Do you vomit on the weekends for fun now?" He kicks the bucket Dallas dropped to the floor. Dallas glares at him. "Look, I'll go get that Darry guy, he can come scrape you off the ground." Buck goes to walk out 'n Dallas snags a hand around his wrist quick as quick.

"Leave Darry out of this." Buck stops, fixes him with a stare. "I don't want him to worry or nothin'."

Well. That wasn't the answer Buck had expected.

"Fine." He shakes Dallas' hand off 'n Dally lets it drop to the bed. "But I'm not gonna let you die in my back room. Bad for business." Dallas rolls his eyes but doesn't argue. Buck disappears into the hall, returns with a thermometer.

"I don't need that shit. I'm fine." Buck shoots him an incredulous look Dallas pointedly ignores.

"I don't really care if you think you don't need it. Either you're openin' up for it to I'll get Darry down here to open your mouth for you." Dallas scowls as Buck plays the only card in his hand. He wasn't sure what Darry Curtis had on the rabid dog that was Dallas Winston but whatever it is, does the trick. Dallas leans over 'n snatches the thermometer, shovin' it into his mouth. "Now keep it there. God knows it'll be hard since you can't ever seem to keep your mouth shut." Dallas shoots him a glare 'n he doesn't need words to convey how close he is to kickin' Buck's ass. Buck just grins.

After a long minute, Buck plucks the glass from Dallas' mouth 'n checks the readin'. He lets out a long, low whistle. "Holy shit, kid."

Dallas momentarily stops scowlin' 'n Buck swears he hasn't seen the vulnerable look on his face since Dallas was fourteen 'n rollin' into Tusla with an accent so strong you couldn't understand a damn thing he said and the hunted look of someone much, much older.

"I think you're out for the count, kid." Dallas is still so focused on the red line he forgets to be agitated with Buck for callin' him a kid. Buck puts one hand on his chest 'n pushes him back down to the pillows.

"What does it say?" Dallas puts up a decent, three-second fight before he goes white 'n grabs for the bucket. Buck worries his lip, runs a hand up the kid's back.

"Says you're sick, dumbass." Buck sighs, stands up once Dallas shoulders stop shakin'.

"Don't go." Dallas' hand snakes out again, this time fingers diggin' deep into Buck's wrist. He freezes, takes in Dallas' gaunt face, his sudden desperation.

"I'm not goin'. I'm gettin' you a glass of water since you've been yackin' nothin' since yesterday." Dallas hesitates a moment 'n Buck doesn't try to pry his fingers off.

"Fine. But don't you dare come back here with medicine. I won't take none of that nasty shit." Buck rolls his eyes and crosses back to the door.

"You'll take whatever I want you to so I don't have to have the cops carry your skinny ass out of here in a body bag." Buck pretends he doesn't see the middle finger Dallas throws as he leaves the room.

When he comes back the kid is suddenly much more subdued than he was when Buck left. Buck deposits the shot glass of cold syrup and water on the nightstand.

"What is it, kid?" Dallas leans back against the wall, pulls his knees up to his chest.

"Buck, am I gonna die?" And the question jars Buck so hard he chokes on whatever he was gonna say.

"Are you gonna what?" Dallas turns the full force of his cold, ice eyes to Buck.

"Die." He deadpans.

"What the hell made you think some little cold is gonna knock off the unkillable Dallas Winston?" Buck smooths a strand of white blonde hair from his forehead. He knows he must really be feelin' whatever bug he's caught when he doesn't fight it at all.

"I dunno. I don't get sick. Last time was... New York." He trails off, buries his head down in his knees. He doesn't need to clarify what he means.

"Yeah, well." Buck picks up the glass, forces it into Dally's hands. "This time you got people lookin' out for you. Ain't no stupid bug gonna kill you, kid."

Dallas takes the cup, swallows a tentative sip. "I guess."

"Look. You're tired. You're half delirious if the nonsense you're spittin' says anythin'. Just try to go to sleep. You'll wake up feelin' better." Buck takes the water, swaps it for the shot glass of medicine. Dallas knocks it back like he shoots vodka- makin' a face 'n then pretendin' he enjoyed it.

He eases Dallas back onto the bed, decides fuck it, the kid was as much Darry's problem as he'd once been Buck's. A million years ago. He'd call him once he got the kid down.

Dallas' eyes flicker shut, blonde lashes fannin' across his cheeks. Buck smooths his hair back one final time, pulls the blanket up 'n over him.

He's nearly out of the room when he hears Dalla's hoarse mutter. "What is it, kid?"

"Thanks, Buck. For everythin'." Buck isn't sappy or nothin' 'n if you asked he'd swear he had no idea what you were dreamin' up. But if he wipes a tear off his cheek as he pulls the door closed, well, it was deserved. He had a soft spot in his heart for that stupid kid. Sue him.

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

Morning Elvis by Florence and the Machine is such a dramatic and metaphorical song, but after being stuck on vacation with an 102 degree fever, I have determined it is about Florence getting the flu on tour and being pissy about it.

“Told the band to leave without me, I’ll catch the next flight/and I’ll see you all with Elvis if I don’t survive the night” tell me those aren’t the words of someone who is passed out on a motel couch, throwing up in a bowl, and eternally bitter.

[meowdei]

Riv opens packages from her best friend ft her terrible immune system that tries to thwart her plans

ANYWAY LOOK AT MY GIANT WRIOSHARK AND SYLUS GRUMPY CROW

[autisticrosewilson]

Do you have anything else about the cannibal jaygrant AU? I love it so much!!! Maybe others finding out/being horrified? Or when does Jason realise Grant is actually courting him? Does Grant just assume they're together at some point?

Of course!!!

A handful of people already know. Talia obviously, who found out the hard way when after weeks of force feeding Jason only for him to throw it all up she finds him taking a bite out of a nurse who tried to check his vitals in the middle of the night. She's still holding out on a cure, but Jason has lost hope. One of her many attempts to cure him led them to Ducra, so the All-caste knows as well. Lex Luther knows unfortunately, and he's keeping it under his belt just in case. Although he may or may not have let something slip to The Society during the events of utrh. Roman knows because Jason doesn't care to hide it from him but he doesn't actually have evidence or even other witnesses so nobody believes him.

Babs...suspects that there is a cannibal on the loose, but she hasn't connected it to Jason yet. The bodies started showing up before Jason's return (he was chowing down while catatonic), stopped for a while, and then came back a few months before Jason officially debuted. It's a cold case that she digs into when she doesn't have anything else to do.

Cass knows that there's something off about Jason, about his appetite, but she can't pin point it. She reads bodies, not minds. She's not omnipotent, and it's not like they spend much time together. She's seen people hungry, people starving. She can tell that he is, but piecing together why is far more difficult.

The only bat that knows something for sure is Alfred, although god knows how. And Alfred is on some level horrified, by what Jason has become, how he's been forced to survive. He doesn't hold it against him. Being a soldier means doing whatever you have to to make it home alive. He watches Jason get gaunt and weak every day, watches him struggle to stomach foods that used to be his favorites.

He's grateful that someone else fed Jason before he had to, because Alfred is not afraid of getting his hands dirty but he is so tired of bloodshed. So maybe he makes a decision of his own. Grant is, well, he's not good, but he's devoted, and sometimes that's better. He's long had a copy of the key to Jason's apartment, he figures anyone who would feed Jason with their own body deserves the same.

It takes Jason a while to figure Grant out. Grant isn't exactly forthcoming about his reasons. It doesn't help that in the beginning Grant doesn't even know he's courting Jason. I skipped some steps in that first ask, it's a few months of Grant treating him like a mountain lion he's brought home and is keeping in the backyard before the gifts start. The real courting starts after Jason has reached his limit of Grant's heavy gaze and condescension, he all but tackles Grant to the ground, digging his wicked sharp teeth into the meat of Grant's shoulder. He locks his jaw, shakes a little to really get his teeth in, and rips a solid chunk out of him.

Grant for once is blissfully silent, eyes wide and a little shell shocked. Jason is too caught up in his victory to notice the rapid tightening of Grant's tac pants. Grant can't look him in the eye, too busy staring at Jason's bloody mouth, triumphant grin dripping with Grant's blood.

Somehow, Grant gets worse, and though Jason recognizes that he's not doing himself any favors by giving in, sometimes those sacred moments of quiet are worth it. He doesn't need to know about Grant's ulterior motives, it's not like he has a choice. They're made for each other. The sooner Jason realizes it, the better. But Grant will enjoy fighting him until he does, he loves a challenge.

[gaminegay]

Hungry: feel like throwing up

Eating: feel like throwing up after 2 bites

Full: feel like throwing up

Beautiful middle stage: yay! :) better not eat anything for 5 hours lest i start feeling like throwing up

[howlsofbloodhounds]

do you think Killer or Color would have absence seizures?

~Musical Anon

If i remember correctly, i think i might’ve actually talked about the idea/concept/possibility of Killer having dissociative seizures/PNES(?) before, can’t really remember the word for it, over on TikTok.

But considering that Killer, is well—Killer—and Color has a massive cracked open skull injury, i wouldn’t be surprised if either experience some type of seizure.

Imagine if Color for awhile after being first thrown in the Void, in horrific pain and confused and covered in his own blood, Color would have frequent seizures that Gaster would have to help him through. Which, uh. They don’t really have any way to clean him if he like, throws up or has an equivalent of losing control of his “bladder.”

[trippygalaxy]

Been on the verge of throwing up all day

I feel like imma puke and i hate gagging and vomit and ugh

[joobforut]

contrasting work…

this is reposted! i realized once i got to bed that i forgot to watermark it and i got paranoid…

also 2nd drawing isn’t getting finished i could nevaaaa (　ﾟдﾟ)

[noodlesoup1819]

Day 5: Chronic Illness - Sigma with endometriosis

(Cw: periods / menstruation, panic attack, throw-up)

(Read on Ao3)

For some naïve reason, Sigma thought this would stop once he joined the agency.

He had woken up multiple times in the middle of the night, lightheaded, nauseous, and hurting. He had probably only gotten a few hours sleep total and what he did get was restless and uncomfortable.

This wasn’t an entirely uncommon occurrence for him. 

Sigma might only have a few years’ worth of memory, but for its entirety, he’d felt like this. Nausea and headaches. Bone deep fatigue. Joint pain and body aches. Not to mention the sensation Sigma can only describe as someone trying to chip off pieces of his hip bones as they stabbed at his organs…

Not pleasant. To put it lightly.

Regardless of how unpleasant it is, it’s how it’s always been.

Dos-kun had once explained that stress could exacerbate the symptoms of periods. And both the desert and the sky casino and everything that followed were nothing but stressful. He also told him that all periods hurt. Sigma often spent time gazing at the women he knew wondering how they did it.

While the agency was no where near stress-free, it was still leagues better that anything he’d had previous. He’d only been there a couple weeks, but��he’d still expected things to get better.

Nonetheless, Sigma had a job to do and he prided himself on doing his job well, no matter if that was the casino or here at the agency. In fact, Kunikida-san often praised his exceptional work ethic and Sigma had no intention of messing that up regardless of how he felt.

Popping a few Tylenols, Sigma finished getting dressed and headed out the door. If he was lucky, he’d have enough time to stop in the café and get a coffee and something for breakfast before he needed to head upstairs to work.

-----

With caffeine to dull his headache and a small muffin in his stomach, he’d felt a little better all morning. The Tylenol was doing it’s job and while the pain in his abdomen wasn’t exactly comfortable, he was able to go through his daily morning routine of checking his emails, filling out mission reports, and assisting the office staff with anything they asked. He’d even managed a small mission with Kenji.

But by the time the two were heading back at close to lunch time, the sharp pains in his hips and lower stomach were becoming unbearable again. It was hard to keep walking without folding over and his nausea was building quickly. As soon as the two got back to the agency, Sigma excused himself to collapse onto the floor and heave into one of the toilets in the agency’s bathroom.

“—Sigma-kun~? Are you in need of my assistance? I’d be happy to help if you’ve gotten hurt on your mission~” Yosano-sensei’s voice traveled through the door. If Sigma was honest with himself, she still scared him a little.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I’m alright.” Sigma called back.

“Really? Because Kenji-kun said you looked like you were in pain when the two of you got back. And I’d be happy to fix you up~.”

Getting up and rinsing his mouth out, Sigma tried to make himself as presentable as possible before opening the door. “I’m alright, Yosano-sensei,” Sigma said, trying not to grimace at the pain, “I’m not injured. And besides, I don’t think your ability would help with this anyway.”

Yosano seemed skeptical. “You sure? You’re doing a pretty terrible job of hiding the fact that you’re in pain. And what is ‘this’ anyway?”

“I’m just on my period,” Sigma sighed. “This just happens sometimes.”

“Your period is causing this? And this is frequent?” Yosano seemed concerned. “Have you ever been to a doctor about it?”

“No?... I thought that it was normal for periods to hurt?” Was that not true?

“Sigma,” Yosano started, “periods are not supposed to hurt. They can be uncomfortable, sure, but they are not supposed to cause you debilitating pain. They are not supposed to make you so sick to your stomach that you have to heave in your work’s bathroom.”

“But… I was always told…” …By Fyodor. He was told all those things by Fyodor. The person who lied and manipulated more than Dazai. The person that lied about a whole world war and used it to manipulate someone revered as a hero into a weapon of destruction. He told him that it was normal. That that was what was supposed to happen. What an idiot he was for believing that load of crap.

If it wasn’t normal, what about him was. He doesn’t have a family or a home. He doesn’t even have a place where he was born and then tossed away. He was written down on a special piece of paper and then thrust into being a pawn for everyone he’s ever met since. He doesn’t have an ideal type or romantic fantasy. He doesn’t have a strong gender identity. And now, the one thing he thought was at least somewhat normal, isn’t either. Does he even count as human at this point?

“—Sigma! Breathe!” Yosano’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Was he not breathing? No? He was breathing too much? His chest hurt and his body hurt and he can’t breathe. Is he dying?

Something grabbed his hand. “Sigma follow my breathing. You’re okay. You’re fine.” Sigma doesn’t think he’s ever heard Yosano’s voice be so comforting. As he followed her instructions breathing got a little easier again.

“Sorry—I just…”

“Sigma, it’s okay. Let’s start from the beginning, alright?”

------

After that day with Yosano-sensei, things got better.

 She gave him some stronger painkillers and nausea meds and sat him down to explain things. He learned what was normal and what wasn’t.

He learned that periods usually only last 5-7 days once a month instead of the almost 9 days twice a month he was experiencing. He learned that periods usually cause cramping and could cause other things but were all things that should be managed (as in taken care of completely!!) with over-the-counter meds. He should not throw up or feel like passing out.

But, as much as he learned what was different, he learned what was normal about him. He learned that he was aroace and that lots of people didn’t experience romantic or sexual attraction. He’d even learned that Ranpo was aromantic! And he learned the word agender. Something that described his experience with gender completely.

He’d felt…whole. Like he was a whole person. Like he was normal. Like there was hope for things to get a bit better.

He’d started playing with different ways to express himself. He was diagnosed with something called endometriosis and Yosano-sensei worked to find meds that helped him. Even though they didn’t stop things completely, his flare-ups had become manageable.

The agency had been really accommodating too. It’s become common to see Sigma cozied up on the agency couch with a heating pad and his laptop on worse days. The president said he could take the day off on those days if he wanted to, but he liked being at the agency.

“—Ku-ni-ki-da-kun~ Sigma-chan looks so lonely sitting all alone on the couch! It’s my duty as a member of the armed detective agency to make sure all our members are taken care of! You should let me go join them!”

That was a new development, too. Being invited into Dazai and Chuuya’s weird situationship has been interesting to say the least. Even though she doesn’t experience romantic or sexual attraction, they’ve grown fond of the two of them and their relationship worked well.

“I can guarantee that Sigma is not lonely the all of seven feet away that he is. And Sigma actually completes their work when she’s on the couch! You’d just use it as an excuse to nap all day!”

“He’s right, Dazai,” Sigma interjected before the two could start actually fighting. “I’m fine. I’m a bit ahead actually. We can head home a bit early if you get your paperwork done.”

Yeah… that sounded nice. Heading home early to spend the evening in with both his partners. Chuuya would probably prepare a nice bath and he could relax as much as they could. Flare-up’s weren’t pleasant, but between her concoction of meds, the agency, and her partners, they were bearable.

“Hmph. Fiiiiiine. But only because Kunikida-kun will let us leave early if I do.”

“Sigma. You’re a godsend. Please never quit the agency, please.”

Yeah… Things were pretty alright.

[thunder-opossum]

I am feeling terrible. (Sick)

Aughhhh. I probably won't be on my phone bc that also makes me nauseous.

I haven't gotten nearly enough sleep bc whenever I roll on my side, I feel sick again rrrr

I'm genuinely scared

[starconchs]

gojo would totally hold your hair back if you ever have to throw up but he also makes little comments and disgusted noises that earn him a scathing glare from you